Marcus Flint, Slytherin Stud
by redcandle
Summary: Marcus suddenly becomes quite popular.


"Marcus Flint, Slytherin Stud" by Redcandle17

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

The day started like any other; there were no indications that any world-or-personality altering spells had been cast overnight. Marcus Flint was lounging in the Slytherin common room before he headed to breakfast in the Great Hall. He was lost in thoughts of homework he'd forgotten to do last night when Pansy Parkinson settled herself in his lap.

"Parkinson?" Marcus didn't know the Third Year very well. In fact, he only knew her name because she often showed up at Quidditch practice to cheer on his Seeker.

Pansy didn't reply, occupied as she was with nuzzling his neck and rubbing his crotch.

Marcus sprang to his feet, dumping Pansy onto the floor. "We'll pretend this never happened."

History of Magic was exceptionally boring and Marcus wasn't the only student who couldn't concentrate on Binns long enough to take notes. He didn't want to repeat yet another year at Hogwarts though, so he thought he should borrow someone else's notes and start studying for N.E.W.T.s. He encountered Percy Weasley that night as Percy was on his Prefect rounds and approached him. Despite the fact that Percy was a Gryffindor, Marcus decided to ask him since he was one of the few who actually listened to Binns.

"I suppose you're going to have your way with me now," Percy sniffed.

Marcus blinked. What? "I just wanted to ask you if I could borrow your History of Magic notes."

Percy scoffed. "You expect me to believe you've pinned me up against the walls to borrow my notes?" He lowered his voice seductively, "We're all alone down here in the dungeons….no one would ever know."

"I see," Marcus said, backing away from the Head Boy, whom he had never touched in his life. "I'll ask a Ravenclaw then."

Marcus decided that Weasley must have finally snapped; not surprising considering how tightly wound he was. However Marcus was soon forced to reconsider whether there was some streak of insanity infecting the student population.

He was locking up the quaffle, bludgers and snitch in the broomshed after Slytherin's Quidditch practice one evening when Oliver Wood accosted him. Marcus started to say something about Potter and Dementors, and promptly found Oliver's tongue in his mouth. Marcus shoved Oliver away and vigorously rubbed his lips with the back of his hand. "What the fuck was that, Wood?" he shouted.

"Don't pretend you don't know," Oliver replied, closing in on him again. "You must have felt this heat between us, this fire…passion."

Marcus shoved the Gryffindor again. "It's called hate and rivalry, Wood. Fuck. Took one bludger too many to the head, did you?" He pushed Oliver once more and quickly departed for the safety of the dungeons.

But, alas, danger awaited Marcus in the Slytherin common room. He was about to head up to his dormitory to tell Bole and Derrick about Wood's odd behavior when Draco Malfoy planted himself in front of Marcus.

"Marcus!" he cried, grabbing Marcus's hand. "My muscles are completely knotted. It's just terrible. You'll have to massage the tension away if you want me at my best for the next game."

Merlin! Not Malfoy too! Marcus pulled his hand away from his Seeker. "Ask Parkinson," he called, as he fled to his dormitory.

Bole and Derrick weren't in the room, but Adrian Pucey, one of the Chasers, was. "I'm so sorry about practice. You can punish me." He started to remove his clothing.

"Er, I think I'll just replace you with Warrington instead," Marcus said. "Get lost."

But Adrian didn't seem to have heard Marcus. He continued to wriggle out of his pants.

Marcus ran all the way out of his dormitory and out of the dungeons. He didn't stop until he reached the library. Surely he was safe here. He sat down and picked up a Potions textbook someone had left there. He'd only managed to read half of a paragraph before someone interrupted him.

It was Katie Bell, a Fourth Year Gryffindor Chaser. "Marcus," she purred. "I've been waiting for you."

Marcus was tired of running all over the castle. At least Katie was a girl, even if she was a Gryffindor and a year below what he considered an age that wouldn't get him accusations of pedophilia. Marcus stood. "Well, we'd better head to the Astronomy Tower before Sinistra takes her class up there," he said, with the air of a martyr.

Katie frowned. "Why would I possibly want to go to the Astronomy Tower with you?"

"So we can snog in private," Marcus explained patiently.

"God, Flint! Urgh. What a horrible suggestion. Only in your perverted dreams."

What? Was she the one person in the castle who wasn't trying to jump him? "But you said you were waiting for me."

"To warn you that Fred and George are planning to play a prank on you! I don't want them to get into trouble."

"Oh," Marcus said. This was embarrassing. He laughed weakly. "I was only joking, Bell."

Katie didn't reply. She continued to stare at him suspiciously.

"Right. So I'll be on the look out for the Weasley terrors."

"They thought it'd be funny to make you fall in love with the most unlikely people," Katie said. "I saw them practicing love charms."

That explained everything. Apparently the Weasleys had their spell backward.

"See you around, Flint."

Marcus sat back down. Just his luck. The one person he wouldn't have minded throwing herself at him was the one who wasn't.Anyway, he had to think of a suitable hex for the twins.

End


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